Big Daddy, Little Sisiter
by Epidemic666
Summary: What did they call the girls? Little sisters, that was it. He didn’t understand what that meant; but it didn’t matter. All he knew was that he had to protect them; he was hardwired to. Rated to be safe


Hello Fanfictioners. Wrote this story on a whim, a random act of inspirational writing you could say. Anyway, my first and probably only Bioshock

story. Read and tell me what you think. Later

**Big Daddy, Little Sister**

He blunders drunkenly into a nearby window, cracking-but not breaking-the all but impenetrable glass. He's been wounded by a splicer, not that he knew what they were called. All he knew was that he didn't like them. There were always shooting at him, yelling at him, threatening to get a hold of one of the girls. What did they call the girls? Little sisters, that was it. He didn't understand what that meant; but it didn't matter. All he knew was that he had to protect them; he was hardwired to. Yet this didn't explain the strange bond he had to them. It was an unusual bond, one that he thought-not being one to think much-that had nothing to do with the ADAM they provided him with.

He pushed himself away from the glass limping forward to nowhere in particular. He would need some ADAM if he wanted to heal, but that was not the reason he wanted to see one of them. He wanted to see one of them, because it would make him feel better; if that was possible. He had never been able to feel much before; maybe his addiction to the ADAM was what had sparked the short, dull, yet possible range of emotions.

He turned down a long corridor, and suddenly was able to hear something. A voice; a whisper. Perhaps it was just the sound of the water making it's way through the pipes....No, definitely a voice.

He limped in the direction it had come, staying quiet, or as quiet as someone as big as him could be. He made his way toward a half open door, noting how the sound was coming from behind it. There were two voices now, deep and husky; the coaxing voice of a splicer trying to get what he wanted.

He peered into the room through the adjacent door, noting two splicers currently making their way toward a small life-from. The life-form was shadowed, and he wasn't intelligent enough to figure out who it was.

"We're not gonna hurt ya," one of the splicers rasped, "we're just gonna cut you up and fill up on all that sweet ADAM of yours."

The other splicer laughed maniacally as the two moved in for the kill. The little figure whimpered, then let a glass shattering screech erupt from it's lungs. He was programmed to react to this sound; he knew she was in danger, knew she would be killed if he didn't intervene.

One of the Splicers began to pound on the young child with a long curved object, while the other looked around frantically. A troglodytic bellow exploded from him as he charged through the door and toward the child's assailant. As soon as the second splicer caught sight of the behemoth he bolted, managing to escape with [what was left of] his life. The splicer currently attacking the youngster was caught off guard by the attack and fired a few shots with the pistol he had handy. The diminutive bullets were no match for the monsters tough armor however, and he grabbed the splicer by the arm, throwing him down the hall.

The splicer was dazed after the throw, but was up quickly, and tried to run. However despite his size and the fact that he was wounded, the metal man could move with incredible agility when he was in attack mode. He was on the splicer before they could get 5 feet, grabbing him by the back of his jacket and slamming him-head first-into the wall. The splicer was probably already dead after the head trauma he had just suffered, but splicers were notoriously tricky. You turned your back to them, thinking they were dead, and suddenly they were all over you.

He gave it another hard smack against the wall, then, jammed his now spinning drill into the splicers back, feeling the hard plaster of the wall as he went through the splicer and into it. That last part had just been for good measure.

He removed the drill from the corpses back, watching it fall to the floor. He stared at the unmoving form for a few moments, not moving away until he knew it was definitely dead.

He made his way over to were he had seen the girl, noting the small lifeless figure lying on the ground. He walked over, now standing right in front of the little body, wrapped in it's dirty, faded, baby blue jumper; it wasn't moving. He gently placed a giant hand on the little girls arm; shook it.....she did not move. He shook her a little harder, still...nothing. He stepped back, letting out a dull, mournful grumble as he stared at the girl before him. Suddenly....movement. The little girl slowly began to rise, and he immediately went over to help her up.

He noted the large bloody gash on her forehead, though as he stared at it, it began to heal before his eyes. Soon, there was no evidence of any injury to the girl at all. He roared happily.

"Hey there Mr. Bubbles," the girl replied sweetly, her iridescent red eyes glowing brightly, lips curling into an adorable smile, "thanks for getting rid of these meanie splicers."

He rumbled compliantly, glad she was alright.

"Oh no! Mr. B! You got hurt!" The girl exclaimed, frowning as she noted the large gash on the metal monsters leg. He mumbled quietly, reaching his one gigantic hand out to her. She slowly began to smile again, taking his hand as she began to lead him out of the room.

"Come on Mr. B," she said to him, now grinning exuberantly, "let's go find you some ADAM."

* * *

So I hope you liked it, like I said, a random act of inspiration ; ) Remember o review.


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